Page 27 of Perfect Pact

“I didn’t.” She nods over to Dusty schmoozing with the old bitties. “He did.”

“How did…” I shake it off. “Never mind. Have a great day!”

“Good luck!” Jessie calls out, but it’s not me who needs the luck now.

I make my way over to Dusty and the ladies, giving myself a little pep talk.

Debt-free, remember?

Guilt-free coffee, remember?

Extra guilt-free, because it was free!

I try to remind myself, but it doesn’t work. So, I plaster a smile on my face and crank up the charm. Dusty-style.

He does a double take as I make my way over to the table—or should I say fan club?

“Dusty, thank you so much for the coffee and buying all these delicious tarts for these lovely ladies.” I smile at each of them all cuddled around the table, cooing over him like the last turkey in the grocery store the night before Thanksgiving.

“That was so sweet and thoughtful of you,neighbor.”

“Wasn’t it, though?” Carol Timmons, the president of Mason Creek’s very own welcoming committee, chimes in.

“Mmmhmmm,” I hum.

“He’s just the sweetest thing.” Carol practically contorts her body into that of giraffe, trying to crane her neck to look up at the bearded charmer. “You know, I have a single daughter. Alice is quite the looker.”

“Twice divorced,” I mumble.

“Hmmm—what did you say?”

“That Alice isperfectfor Dusty.” I practically vomit in my mouth at the thought.

“That’s what I said!” Carol nudges one of her friends. “I don’t care what you said. Beth Michaels does have taste.”

My eyes fly to Dusty, who’s fighting back a laugh.

What a jerk!

I can’t believe this. Not only did he buy all the tarts, but he dragged me through this bullshit gossip-sesh. Not cool, Jacobs. Not cool.

“Well, ladies…I gotta go.” My smile is so fake, I can barely feel my face. “Busy day.” I hold up my coffee and cheers the air before I spin around and rush out the door.

“You’re welcome,neighbor,” Mr. Have the Last Words calls after me.

Neighbor, my ass.

As soon as the door closes, I take a sip, praying this coffee works a miracle and erases the past ten minutes—or better yet, my history with the bearded charmer himself, Dusty Jacobs.

Dammit.

Not only does it not wipe my memory clean, it doesn’t taste nearly as good as I thought it would. I feel like my victory coffee was Dusty’s win.

I try not to let it ruin my day as I head to the bank, excited to see what my opportunities are now that all my debts are paid.

Walking into the building, I shake off my annoyance, and I’m greeted by—wouldn’t you know it? Alice.

“Welcome to Bradford Bank.” She greets in a sing song voice, not a blonde curl out of place as she stands and makes her way over to me. “Mr. Caldwell was called into a meeting. He asked that I assist you with your financial needs this morning.”

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